Unlike: The Mentalist
by Saslyax
Summary: Tag for season 7 episode 8, Right Turn, or Left for Dead. Juliet knows why The Mentalist is Shawn's favorite TV show. Revised.


**Unlike: The Mentalist**

**By:**

**Saslyax**

**Summary: Tag for season 7 episode 8: Right Turn, or Left for Dead. Juliet knows why The Mentalist is Shawn's favorite TV show. Revised.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the awesome delicious flavor that is Psych. I'm just a Psycho!**

**Warnings: Slight Mentalist references. I don't think there is anything big or spoiler-ish. I think you wouldn't need to see the show to understand the story, but it would help with the references.**

* * *

SoulMateConnection . Com. The one click dating website. Maybe Juliet could find someone that doesn't lie on here.

Doubtful, since her Mr. Possibilities was an unstable maniac.

Still, the idea of finding her soul mate, that wasn't a liar, would be a dream. She thought Shawn was the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, but every word he spoke were complete lies. How could she trust him with anything?

Juliet stared at the case-file photo of her dating page as "Helene", for hours. Maybe Helene could go back on the single market, but Juliet just wasn't ready yet. Despite everything, she still felt something for Spencer.

It really felt like she would never be able to find another guy again. Maybe she'd grow old alone and adopt another cat.

She browsed through her profile and glance at her likes: turtles, The Mentalist…

Wait.

_Oh god_.

Shawn was just like Patrick Jane; it's no wonder why he's obsessed with the show. He probably already knew who Red John was, or at least had it down to seven suspects.

How could she ever watch the show again? Shawn ruined The Mentalist for her. She'll always be reminded of Shawn every time she saw Simon Baker. Jane was a conman, a jerk that interfered with the law, for his personal gain. He was just the kind of man she despised. She couldn't be Lisbon and let Shawn use her and get away with lies after lies. Honesty and the law came first.

Damn. Now, she'd never know who Red John was.

Juliet logged into her Facebook account and immediately unliked The Mentalist and removed all The Mentalist fansites she had bookmarked. The show was dead to her and Shawn had to be too.

She needed to see Shawn now.

* * *

Ever since the photographer posted the pictures of Lassiter's wedding, for purchase, Shawn's eyes were glued to the webpage. He studied and memorized every pixel of the picture of Jules and him; it was their last happy moment before he screwed everything up.

It was the damn jacket! He shouldn't have done the gentlemen thing. He shouldn't have offered his jacket, with evidence of his fraud within its pockets… Shawn's mind wandered into the what-ifs again.

Shawn's heart leapt into a cheery, yet tense startle when Jules said his name. He's definitely off his game.

Normally, he'd instantly know whenever someone entered the Psych office. He'd pick out the distinct sound of Jules' walk, the smell of her mild perfume, and the light breeze that whispers in whenever someone opened the door. He wished his F performance were due to the concussion, and not because of that stupid jacket.

"Shawn, don't say anything."

Shawn had a whole speech in mind, ready to flee his mouth. He'd do and say anything to get Jules back. She was the first girl he ever took seriously, but right now, Shawn needed to let her talk; it's what she wanted right now.

"This is why The Mentalist is your favorite show."

That wasn't what he pictured her saying. It also wasn't a question. Jules _knows _why it's his favorite show.

On closer examination, Jules looked less like a furious goddess on a rampage. She was stuck in two worlds too: One where she couldn't let go of him, and the other where she whipped out her gun and committed ruthless homicide. Or turned him in.

She's as stiff as Lassie and too many emotions flash within her eyes; Shawn couldn't even begin to count or decipher them. He swore it was the concussion.

The emotional vault-Juliet spilled out. He'd listen to whatever she needed to say to him. Spencers made everything complicated.

"I could always count on you, Shawn. To be there, to tell the truth, and everything would be the way it was, if I hadn't found that piece of paper. Maybe you did it to protect me. Maybe you did it because you were forced to. But if you're not psychic, then you're the best cop I've ever seen." Jules teared up.

All Shawn wanted to do was hug her and make everything better. If Gus built a time machine, he could stop himself from giving her his jacket.

Jules continued, "You're just like _him_! Patrick Jane. You both pretend to be psychic. You're both brilliant con artists. You both lie and use people for your own gain! Maybe that's why I fell for you, and the show. I somehow connected it all subconsciously."

Shawn inched closer, "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, but I have never lied about how I feel for you. That's all been real. I lie to everyone else, especially Gus, but never to you." He really meant it, and he didn't know what to do if she didn't believe him.

Tears almost reached his eyes. He never felt so much at once. Usually, Shawn would say or do something silly because he hated feeling so scared and disoriented, but this was serious. He needed to be serious right now, for Jules.

"I love you."

Shawn's not sure who said it first, or if it even mattered. Jules looked relaxed and moved closer to him.

She embraced him, and in this moment, Shawn knew everything would be okay.

"In fact, I find it kind of hot, how sly you can be, fake-psychic Shawn Spencer. It's a little badass. I didn't know you had it in you," Jules whispered into his ear.

And that's just pure flattery. If only Gus heard it: Shawn Spencer, badass.

She gave him that adorable, sexy look, and he knew he was definitely out of that crappy, little doghouse his dad made him build.

* * *

"Shawn."

Fuck! He did it again! He couldn't stop thinking about the _what-ifs_. If his mind didn't stop, he'd feel like the guy from the short-lived TV show, Awake. What-ifs were all he dreamt or thought about now.

This time, he needed to get the first word in, and it had to be pure truthfulness, which was a little unusual for him. "Jules, I've been obsessively playing over Lassiter's wedding in my head. If I just didn't give you my jacket, everything would be okay."

Jules had her interrogation, cop-face on. He needed to use the line he said in his dream: that worked well, "Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I have never lied to you about how I-"

"Shawn, the more you talk, the angrier I get. I know you can just blow this whole thing off, like, it's no big deal, but I can't. I trusted you. That's why The Mentalist is your favorite show-"

Whoa. Déjà vu.

"-Because you're just like _him_! A lying, self-absorbed, con artist that uses people for your own gain!"

Juliet needed a moment to catch her livid breath, to think about what she needed to say next. Shawn hoped it was something along the lines of forgiveness. Maybe, something about being badass, but that would be pushing it.

"We need some space."

Every internal organ froze at those words. He knew what they meant, and it wasn't good. Maybe he missed something, and it's not quite as bad as it sounded. "What? What does that mean?"

"Shawn, you need to move out." He wanted to say more, add in a ridiculous remark or ten, but by the time the shock of her words passed, she was gone with the door wind.

And everything wasn't okay, and Shawn's mind wandered. He's back at their place, enjoying the best makeup sex ever because Juliet forgave him and everything was okay.

**The End**

* * *

**Added a Juliet PoV. I never really liked the first version. It felt like a rough draft to me. I hope this version is better.**

**Posted: 4-19-13**

**Revised: 8-16-13**


End file.
